Timmy's Shirt!
by crazy4timmy
Summary: smut!


**I own nothing!!!!**

**Tommy's shirt**

I am wearing your old shirt. To a casual observer that wouldn't be a very big deal, but it is to me. Your shirt is old and faded and worn, with little threads peeking out from there hiding places and colors beginning to bleed into the white parts. It smells like you most of the time, and it sometimes smells like my vanilla, sometimes it just smells like soap from my washer. But it is comfortable, it is yours, and by extension, mine.

I wear this shirt a lot. I wear it when I need to feel sexy, which is pretty often lately, I admit. I feel that way right now. It is late in the evening and you are sound asleep, in some distant city and an unfamiliar bed, resting after another long day of chasing a dream for us. I wandered this house along tonight and spent quite a while just looking at the candles burning on my table, thinking about us.

But I don't want to think anymore. I just want to feel you.

I want to feel you in front of me, knowing your eyes are devouring me, knowing that you can see everything under this shirt with your mind. I want to feel your hands reach out and slowly push a curl of wayward blond hair back behind my ear, letting your fingers trail down the soft strands until you find the even more enticing softness of my neck. I want to shiver while you run your fingertips over my skin and feel the pulse beating underneath the softness. I know you. I know you would do this, because you don't know how not to worship a women.

You might say things, or you might not. It wouldn't matter because I know what is in your heart at times like this, during long night like these. Your heart would proclaim that I am beautiful and I would, finally, at long last believe…you would tell me tell me that I am the only one you want, and this I would no longer doubt. Your hands would delve into my hair and you would pull my head back, and I would enjoy the long moment of just our breath mingling before you kissed me. And you would kiss me the way a woman deserves to be kissed, with a tender touch and a demanding hand, all at once. The passionate side of you that needs control would make itself know. And I would answer with a moan, a motion of assent.

I want you. i would say that somehow, although maybe not in words. But you would already know it, because you would already feel the heat within my skin, see the darkness in my eyes. I want you. I want you to touch me. I want to feel like myself, like yours, again. My fantasy goes farther. Do you want to know?

In my mind, my fantasy, you pull my head back just enough to slide your soft lips down my throat. You find that little hollow and suck gently, making me smile because I know you are very cautiously leaving a mark there. You don't know what I want yet and you are testing the waters. But your are right. I want to be marked, taken, claimed by you. Your hands slide from my hair and I stay where I am, standing before you with no shame or fear. Your hands make their way down to mine and you hold them, your fingers pressing tightly into the back of my hands, as you teeth find the first button on your shirt.

Opening a shirt with your teeth is slower than it is when you use your hands, which is exactly your point. You want me to be frustrated and whining, the kind of impatience that always makes you chuckle. I do my best to stand still while the fabric opens and lets cool air in over me, air that doesn't do the slightest to cool my body. I want you too much. I can already feel the wetness you create in me with just the promise of your touch. Your teeth find the last button and it comes loose under your tongue, right over my belly. Your lean forward and press your lips to my tummy, smiling a little when you feel me tremble. Your hands let go of mine and you are on your knees, your fingertips making light trails up my thighs. My legs are smooth and soft from the care I have taken, from the hours spent preparing my body for your pleasure. You notice and your body responds.

You take your time at first, but impatience makes you hands unsteady and faster. When I can't stand it anymore I let out a deep groan and my hands find your hair. I push you down farther and you go, more than willing. Your hands suddenly find my hips and you pull me to you. The gasp that rips from my throat is nothing compared to the cry of pleasure you pull from me. I feel your tongue gently slide over my neat curls and I know you can taste vanilla. Your tongue slides lower and my knees begin to shake. You hold me up with your broad hands on my pale hips, demanding that I stay there in my place and accept the pleasure you want to give. Your tongue is shockingly hot against my clit, and you moan when you taste me. I know you love this. The fact that I am trembling in your hands is a delicious plus. You move your tongue in circles, then your lips begin to gently suck. You keep it up…and up…and up until I am begging to come. I have the sudden thought that you will keep me upright until I come for you, but you take pity on me., perhaps it is the fact that my nails are digging into your skin that makes you relinquish your hold on me. I fall to the floor with you your tongue following my skin and leaving a trail of wetness all the way up to my chin.

And that's how I begin with you, running my tongue from your chin and down. Your t-shirt disappears without a thought. Your jeans open easily under my hands. I push them down while my mouth blazes a trail down your chest. You are already hard and throbbing, and your hands immediately find there way into my hair. I remember how shy you once were and I smile, right before I slide my tongue over your slick head. You groan in the way that is uniquely you, the sound that says, please don't stop, please give me more of that. I swirl my tongue around your head echoing the way used yours on my clit. I wonder if you are aware of the imitation, but I don't care. You buck into me then and your hands push down, and as you slide past my lips you moan at the incredible heat of it.

Your hands leave my hair and you caress my back, lifting the shirt higher off my hips so that you can see the dip in my spine, the curve of my legs. I begin to move up and down on you, letting my lips and tongue and teeth suck you inside my mouth and then push you out. My hands push your jeans farther down. You thrust up into me, wanting as much as I can give you. I can taste the drops of come that flow out of you and into my mouth…you taste sweet and addictive. I know how you would taste when you are covered in my own juices, and I suddenly want you driving into me, hard and fast. But I can't pull myself away from the seductive sweetness you are giving me.

My hands find your balls and you moan. You begin to speak to me, telling me how good it feels, telling me what you want me to do to me. You

tell me that you want to come. I back off then and you groan in frustration. But I don't want to wait anymore. I can't wait anymore

I push you back onto the carpet. Your chest heaves under my hands. Together we remove the rest of your clothes. The lights from the candles in the room shine on your skin, turning you golden. Your hands find my hips again as I straddle you, but I don't take you into me just yet. I run my wetness over you, make your body even harder with yearning for what is yours. I sit up on you and let you watch as I open your shirt. The fabric falls open over my breast and you reach up to touch my nipples gently with your fingers and I let my head fall back. You watch my hair cascade down my shoulders, almost brushing your legs it has grown so long. I move my hands up to yours and push them down, placing your fingers on my hips.

I touch myself then, my fingers working over my own breast. One hand slides up my neck and finds my hair, pulling it up to cook my neck, piling it high on my head. My other hand abandons my nipples and slides down my body. I touch you gently before I touch myself. Your eyes watch everything. My finger slides over my clit just as I slide my body over yours. You let out the breath you don't even realize your were holding. I watch your eyes as I take your cock into my body, not hesitating. You are thick enough to stretch me and I moan as I take you all the way, needing you so badly. You arch into me and hold your body hard against me, letting me move back against you.

I slide up until you are almost out of me, then I slide down again. I take my slow, agonizing time. Each time I move up you watch my juices coat you. I need to come and you can feel it, you can hear it and see it in me, as you always can. You just hold my hips harder and tell me to take what I need, to come for you. Your body tense and ready and I know what you want. So I rock harder, take your cock deeper. I touch myself again and again and between the two of us, my orgasm hits hard. I come with a shout, a sound that mingles with your voice as you encourage me to keep going, to drive you through it to make the sensation all it can possibly be.

Then you move under me, and what I suspected you wanted, you do. You gently lift me off of you and let me tumble gracefully onto my back. Then you are above me lifting my legs over your shoulders with out a pause. You don't want to take your time. You don't want to make my body ready or ask me what I want. That isn't what this is about.

You drive into me hard. One thrust, hard and vicious, deep into the core of me. It makes me cry out in pleasure and maybe a little pain. You know that I want anything from you, that I will match you with every thrust, that the thought of saying no will never enter my mind, because you are and I are never like that. My hands dig into the carpet. I thrust back up at you until I can't match you anymore, then your body drives into mine with a power that always surprises me. I know I am tight around you, just the way you always like it, and I can feel a mixture of you and me running out of me and onto the carpet below. Your teeth find my neck and sink down. Your hands link with mine. You drive into me, claming once again what is yours.

I take all of you, every plunge of your cock meeting with a giving softness. I tighten my body around you. I can't move beyond that, I can only tremble under your superior weight as you take me. This is what you want, what I want. I whisper in your ear, make yourself come. Use my body. I am yours. Take me, I am yours. I belong to you. I want to feel you inside, to know that my body had made yours explode in passion. I need that from you. I need to feel like your woman again.

You hold back a little, just to savor the moment. You hold back until the words "I am yours" are firmly embedded in your mind, until my voice chases out all other thought. Only then can you let yourself go, and you do, your body suddenly moves deeper into me. You begin to whimper. I kiss your throat and feel you moan under my lips. I want you to come inside me, to come for me, to share with me that moment when all your defenses are down. I want to feel like you are mine.

You bend lower over me and thrust, hard and stead. My body burns around you and I come again, this time the clenching around your rod drives you past the point of no return. You hold your breath for a long moments as you feel your body build into the feeling, then you come with a shout, a raspy sound that escapes when you let your breath go. You push against me and into me one last time, and I feel your passion inside me, feel your juices splash out into me with a force that is almost painful. You hold me closer for a moment, until your body gives me all you have in you.

Then you gently lower my legs, and your lower yourself to my side. I look at you, let my fingers trace your face as I feel your essence within me. Your shirt is still wrapped around my shoulders. Yet I don't need it to remind me at this moment. I don't need it to remind me, for you have made me feel beautiful and sexy with your words, your body, your heart. I look into your eyes and see only myself reflected there.

That is my fantasy, my darling. Perhaps a simple fantasy, just like this shirt I wear is simple shirt. But to me it is far from simple.

You are far from simple

Tonight as I sit here and dream about you, as I watch the candles burn low and wonder about you, as I hope and pray that you are sleeping well and peacefully with dreams of me…

Tonight, I have never been so much in love. I have never felt such a desire to belong to you, body and soul. I am yours. The center of us always comes back to these simple yet complex things…your shirt draped over my shoulders, my voice in your ear, a connection that cannot be explained by anyone else simply because they can't feel it

But we can…


End file.
